AN: Thanks to Roar526 for her help with this chapter and the last.

Albuquerque, we have a problem

Chapter 52 – Burning the Campbell at Both Ends

Marshall shut his front door behind him and made his way down the hall in the dark. He flipped on the light as he entered the living room and surveyed the mess that greeted him. As soon as he sat on the sofa he realised his mistake; there was no way he'd want to move again tonight.

He'd been on duty since six that morning and it was now sometime after midnight. The monotony of the protective detail routine had been alleviated by the trip to LANL, but that had presented it's own set of issues that he didn't want to think about just now. He didn't want to think about it, yet once his mind was set on that path he couldn't turn it aside.

She had told Emily Hulse that he was married. She had deliberately sabotaged a potential date of his. She'd never done that before. It had to mean something, right? It was that thought that had allowed him to forgive Mary for her vindictive act. Eventually.

Despite the fact he'd recently resolved to go after what he wanted as per Ellen's advice, Emily had been attractive and intelligent and hadn't made him feel like he was a complete geek. He'd been tempted, even to the point of accepting the date. But in the end, Mary's intervention had allowed him to back out of the impulsively arranged date and given him further hope for a future with Mary.

He hadn't talked to Mary for a couple of hours after he found out about his supposed wife and kids. He knew she'd read his silence as anger and he hadn't corrected her. In truth he'd been too confused to be angry and if his silence taught her that she shouldn't, couldn't, treat him that way then so much the better.

He glanced at the clock.

1.12 am.

He'd lost another chunk of time contemplating this new development and now he had to be back on duty in 4 hours 48 minutes. It hardly seemed worth going to bed so he just stretched out on the sofa and allowed his eyes to drift closed.

xxx

Marshall's eyes raked the room he had just let himself into. He was searching for Mary, but also checking that the room was secure. He could hear the faint sound of yelling coming from the main bedroom followed by what could only be Mary's voice.

He made his way over and stuck his head into the room. The movement drew Mary's attention and she joined him in the suite's main room.

"Where's Campbell?" Marshall asked, concerned.

"Who?"

"Campbell," Marshall reiterated, but only received a blank look from Mary. "Mike Campbell. Your temp. partner. You've been working with him for three days, Mare," he said reprovingly.

"Oh, him," Mary huffed.

"Yeah, him. Where is he?"

"Outside, in the corridor."

"No. He's not," Marshall bit.

Mary stared at him in disbelief before turning sharply on her heel, stalking to the door and peering out into the empty corridor.

She closed the door with a thud that covered her profanity.

"Where the hell is he?" she asked.

Marshall just smiled as she finally caught up. She whipped the Blackberry off her belt and dialled Stan's number not caring that it was 6 am. Marshall left her to it and completed his own security sweep of the suite while Mary talked to Stan.

Marshall found a weary looking Ralph coming out of his bedroom and wondered if he looked as rough. A quick glance in the bathroom mirror as he checked the room for unauthorised people confirmed his suspicions. The few hours sleep he had managed to get hadn't made a dent in the bags under his eyes, rapidly garnered since the weekend. As he re-entered the main room he heard raised voices once more. Mary had had the sense to move into the corridor to find out what had happened to Campbell, but Mr and Mrs Delcroix were less considerate as they had relocated their fight into the main room.

"Can we get breakfast?" Denise Delcroix stopped shouting at her husband long enough to ask.

"Not yet," Marshall informed them.

Jean-Michel was instantly alert. He'd picked up the strain in Marshall's voice even if his wife hadn't.

"What is wrong?"

"We have a small problem," Marshall said as he drew Mr Delcroix aside.

"What problem?"

"We're taking care of it. There's nothing for you to worry about. I just need you to stay here for a while and hold off on breakfast until we can clear it," Marshall explained.

Jean-Michel nodded his understanding and returned to his wife's side, their fight temporarily on hold. Marshall excused himself and joined Mary in the corridor.

"What did Stan say?" he asked quietly.

"He's got no idea where his is. He wasn't reassigned, at least. Stan's sending some backup."

"How do you want to play it?"

Mary considered the options, "Does this feel like a hit to you?"

Marshall shook his head, "Why wait 'til now? We were much more vulnerable yesterday. And why take out Campbell then not make an attempt on the witnesses?"

"That's what I was wondering," Mary agreed.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the elevator doors opening. They both held their breath and found their hands drifting toward their weapons as the doors pulled back to reveal James Ross, Marshall's temporary partner. They both relaxed as he approached them.

"Problem?" Ross asked as he saw the expression on their faces.

"Did you see Campbell on your sweep?" Marshall asked.

Ross shook his head, never one to use words unnecessarily.

"He wasn't at his post when I got here this morning," Marshall filled him in.

Ross accepted the information unflinchingly and cut to the chase, "Where do you want me?"

xxx

Campbell was eventually located, asleep, on the fifth floor.

Marshall's partner, James Ross, was the one to find him and he dragged him back up to the eighth floor where Mary and Marshall were supervising the increased security detail and the search for Campbell. The relief they felt at discovering he was alright was short lived and Mary was soon laying in to him for deserting his post. For once Marshall let her give full reign to her anger, the potentially disastrous 'what if's in his mind meant he was not feeling charitable enough to hold her back.

He left her to it, sure that anything he had to add would be drowned out by Mary. He took charge of calling off the teams searching the rest of the hotel, but left the increased security until he could perform a threat assessment.

Until he could get to the office, the threat assessment would have to wait. He glanced around the room, checking for tasks left undone and his eyes fell on Jacques Delcroix playing quietly with his toy cowboy again. Marshall had spent the journey to Los Alamos painting a picture of the wild west for him using his knowledge of the region's history. Jacques had asked the occasional question, but it appeared he was a naturally quiet child as he was more than happy to listen in silence as Ralph translated Marshall's tales. As Marshall once again caught the sound of Jacques' parents quarrelling he thought that it was unsurprising that Jacques was so quiet.

The couple seemed to argue about anything. Now they were on their new favourite topic; Jean-Michel's job and the fact it had put them in danger. Over the few days Marshall had known them, the supposed level of danger had ranged from witnessing an event that would traumatise Jacques for life, to almost getting all three of them killed depending on Denise's mood. Marshall had managed to stop them arguing for a while while they searched for Campbell, but Denise's worried tears had soon run dry, leaving her scared and frustrated and the only outlet for her emotions was shouting at her husband.

Mary had finished a similar venting at Campbell's expense and had sent him back to the court house thoroughly chastened. Now she was searching for Marshall.

She found him in the corridor.

He'd escaped there on the pretext of guarding the door, filling the post abandoned by Campbell, but actually just wanting to escape the renewed arguing that had surfaced in the suite. Mary couldn't blame him.

"I need to go to the office to sort out this mess," she said, "Do you need anything when I come back?"

"You can't take the next shift, Mare. When was the last time you slept?" he asked before she could object.

It took Mary a moment to think of the answer and her hesitation betrayed her.

"You didn't sleep before you came on duty, did you?" Marshall surmised.

Mary shrugged sulkily, "It didn't seem worth it," she said as she recalled that she'd spent over an hour in the office, talking to Eleanor when she'd come off her previous shift. The rest of her 'down time' she'd just wasted, knowing it would take her ages to get to sleep and unsure if she'd then be able to rouse herself in time for the midnight start of her next shift. She hadn't been planning to tell Marshall any of that, yet he seemed to know most of it anyway.

"How about, you go find partner capable of watching your back for six hours..." Marshall started but stopped when Mary huffed and mumbled something he didn't catch. "What was that?"

"I said, 'I've got a capable partner', I don't want to trust anyone else with my purse, let alone my life!"

"Me neither," Marshall quietly told the carpet. He looked up to see Mary studying the wall. Marshall cleared his throat, breaking the moment, and continued, "But it's only for a couple more days and it's not exactly a high risk assignment, Mare."

"That's not the point!"

"I know," he sighed. "Just find someone that isn't a complete rookie, knows how to shot straight and can stay awake for six hours. I trust you to take care of the rest."

Mary was somewhat pacified by the compliment and allowed Marshall to continue uninterrupted.

He outlined more of his plan, "Once you've done that and got Stan to sign off on it, dump your paperwork on Eleanor and go get some sleep. I'll cover things here and you can relieve me this evening."

"You want to pull a double shift with Sid and Nancy in there?"

Marshall raised his eyebrows at Mary's pop culture reference.

"What? I listen to music!" she claimed.

"Duly noted," Marshall smiled. "And here was me thinking you'd spent your free time last night researching pop trivia just so you could make that reference."

"I didn't, but I'm sure if I had, it would have been more fun than whatever you did last night, Doofus."

"At least I got some sleep. I won't ask what you were doing instead," he said, hiding his curiosity as to why she hadn't taken the opportunity to sleep when given it.

Mary crossed her arms across her chest ignoring his barely concealed question and considering his offer to swap shifts with her.

"Okay," she relented. "I'll chase up the DoJ while I'm at the office, see if we can't offload Kurt and Courtney onto someone else before we kill them, ourselves."

"It's funny you should mention killing them as both of those relationships ended in death, although it was never proven that Sid Vicious killed Nancy Spungen despite his confession that he 'stabbed her but didn't mean to kill her' which I've always found strange. I mean, why else would you stab someone?" Marshall affected a British accent learnt from Mary Poppins, "Oh, I'm sorry, Your Honour, I didn't mean to kill her, I was just tickling her with this knife..."

"Maybe he just wanted to shut her up," Mary suggested with a pointed look in Marshall's direction before returning to the suite to gather her coat and bag.